La Metà Dimenticata
by Firey-Nii-Wolf
Summary: Romano never wanted to join the war, but the March on Rome changed everything for him. With War World Two in full swing, Romano is forced to helplessly watch his beautiful nation crumble. Now, with the help of the Resistenza, Romano is determined to escape Veneziano's possessive hold on him and to drive Fascism from his beautiful lands. Eventual Spamano with slight Itacest


**Hi there~!**

**Wow, I really don't know how to stop starting new stories huh? Geez...**

**I noticed my lack of fanfics for my favorite Hetalia pairing, so I though _"What the hell? Let's go it!"_**

**It won't be immediately Spamano, in fact it centers more around Romano that anything, but Spain will be flitting in and out of this story as Romano's love interest. It will have Spamano smut somewhere in the middle, I promise!**

**It was mostly rated for the future gore that usually is in war stories.**

**A small warning, it does have some slight one-sided Itacest and Romano x the Allies. Hell, Romano can be with anyone, because he's that sexy~! But Spain is the only true love for him~ *shot***

**Annnyyyywaaays~**

**Hope you enjoy this new story. It might not be historically accurate, but I will try.**

**Reviews would make me very happy and would encourage to me write faster.**

**Enjoy.**

**Translations at the bottom**

**Link to the song Romano sings in the chapter: (Youtube) /watch?v=oIIEFznU5-A**

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"Roooooommmaaaaaa~!"

Romano looked up from his work, placing a hand before his face so the sun didn't hurt his eyes. Veneziano stood at his back porch, wildly waving his arm in the air. Romano scowled and waved back. Veneziano stepped down the steps of the wooden porch and raced through the short grassy backyard toward Romano and his tomato garden that only took up a small patch of the yard.

"Ve~! Fratello guess what?" Veneziano buzzed excitedly, firmly grasping Romano's arm and clinging to him. Romano scowled, wiping away sweat and dirt from his forehead with his forearm. The depression was hitting hard everywhere, so the eldest had taken to growing and selling his precious tomatoes to earn money rather than accepting the large sums of money their government gave them for simply existing. The practice wasn't much, it never brought in enough money, but Romano was an excellent thief. He'd do anything to keep Veneziano and himself alive and well.

"You finally found a fucking job and stopped following that stupid potato bastard around?" Romano asked dryly. Veneziano was desperate for a job, but despite his talents and skills, no one was willing to hire the northerner. In response to is brother's question, Veneziano laughed, snuggling closer to Romano, much to the elder's distaste.

"Ve~ no silly! Germany gave me a job! Didn't you get my letter?"

Romano gave his brother a look. He had received the letter, but he wouldn't admit that Veneziano had disappointed him. The older Italian had been hoping his younger brother would get a job in Italy and leave Germany alone. The potato bastard looked so much like the young Holy Roman Empire, and Romano feared for his brother's heart. He had seen Veneziano go through one heartbreak, like Hell would he let his brother go through another just because the younger was stupid enough to want a replacement for Holy Rome. Romano sighed and shook his head, pushing Veneziano off his arm.

"I gotta work Vene," Romano said, kneeling back down and picking up his hand shovel. "If that's all you're here for, then go the fuck home. If you actually have something-"

"Oh! Boss says he wants us to move to our home in Rome~!"

Romano shot the smiling Veneziano a calculating glare. The order had obviously not affected the younger Italian much, but it put Romano on edge. He had heard the rumors of the approach of another war. Romano prayed and prayed that that's all they were, rumors. Surely their people could not afford another war after the first Great War. With the order to move to Rome, it seemed like the rumors were actually taking shape and becoming something dark, dangerous, and true. Hiding his fright, Romano looked up at Veneziano with hard eyes.

"Boss wants us to move to Rome," Romano repeated, his voice even and neutral. "What the Hell? Why?"

Veneziano shrugged, a smile still firmly on his lips. "I don't know Fratello, but I was sent to pick up and and take you there! I already moved in."

Romano sighed, rubbing his temples with dirty fingers. "Che palle."

Veneziano watched his brother rise and wipe his hands on the yellow apron he was wearing. Veneziano loved to see his brother work in the fields, mostly because the elder always showed the plants such soft tender emotions that he showed to no human. It made Veneziano jealous sometimes. Romano scowled, noting that his work pants and the tips of his apron had grass stains and dirt.

"Let me take a damn shower first," Romano sighed. "Then I'll pack and we can go."

Veneziano nodded and followed is brother up the porch steps and into the modest villa. The back door lead into the small kitchen, and Veneziano stopped briefly to take an apple from the tiled counter. The wooden floorboards creaked and Romano continued to to the living room. Veneziano hurried after, blinking as he watched Romano turn off the radio on the wooden table in the corner that was softly playing music that sounded an awful lot like Spanish. Veneziano sat on the plush couch, kicking off his shoes and rubbing his socked feet against the fluffy rug beneath the glass coffee table in the middle of the room. Romano shot him a glare and opened red curtains and slid open the window, allowing the sunlight to filter in with the warm air. Veneziano smiled contently, adoring how his brother always managed to catch the warm and coziness of their beloved land.

"Wait here," Romano instructed. "I'll be back."

Veneziano nodded and laid back on the couch, sighing in content as he sunk into the softness. Romano smiled slight before turning and trudging up the stairs to the second level. The southern half nation sighed and continued down the hall to his bathroom. When he got in, he locked the door and began to strip down. It was tiring, every day working from early in the morning to late at night, selling his tomatoes, gardening, bartering prices with poor locals. Romano hated to see his people so sad and so low. He was only thankful that the Mafia was keeping quiet in such hard times. Romano turned on the water, fixing it to be hot. Once it was the perfect temperature, the southern Italian stepped in, groaning as the hot water hit him and soothed his tense body. He wanted nothing more than to stand in the perfect relaxing warmth for all eternity. Here, Romano could close his eyes and pretend the world was fine, his people were happy and well fed, and that there was absolute peace in Europe. The order to move to Rome was still nervously swimming in Romano's head, making him worried. Their Boss would not order them to be so close to their heart if the threat of war wasn't upon the horizon. Would he and his brother be able to avoid this war, or would they be pulled into it like the first Great War. Would Romano have to take over the fighting as he had in the first war? Would Veneziano be safe? Would he himself be safe? Shaking his head, Romano rid himself of those worrisome thoughts and picked up his bottle of shampoo. It was always a good idea to expect the worse, but all that did was make the grumpy pessimistic Italian even grumpier.

Once his shower was done, Romano shut off the water and wrapped a towel around his waist. He stepped over his dirty abandoned clothes and crossed the hallway to his room, which was right across from the bathroom. He dressed in a wool brown collared shirt, thick fabric pants, and slipped on his boots. It was poor clothes of a farmer, but Romano liked to consider himself equal to his people. Therefore, he dressed like his countryfolk. Romano pulled out a suitcase and began packing away as much clothes as he could. No doubt when Veneziano and him got to Rome, they would be forced to dress like the wealthy and live off the sums of money given to them by their Boss. Romano sighed and packed his suits as well. Once Romano deemed himself packed and ready, he slapped a cap on his head and bounded down the steps, suitcase in hand. Veneziano looked up, waking from his drowsy state. He gave Romano a look, but said nothing about his attire.

The two brothers exited the house. Romano locked the door behind them, then followed Veneziano to the waiting automobile that was parked before his villa. Veneziano happily skipped to the driver's side, pulling his keys out and babbling about one thing and then another. Romano sighed and tossed his suitcase into the back and climbed into the passenger's seat. The ride was filled with small talk and both brothers catching up with each other. Romano was surprised when his brother brought up Spain. It was an innocent question, but Romano found himself unable to answer as his heart fluttered at the thought of the Spaniard and his cheeks burned red. Veneziano, on the other hand, was surprised that his question had gotten such a reaction from his brother. Yes, he knew that Romano blushed easily, but is brother's entire face was red and it made him curious.

"Ve~Fratello?"

"Sh-shut up idiota!"

Veneziano pouted and continued driving on in silence.

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Their place in Rome was more of a small apartment really. The brothers only used it when they had official business that could not be accomplished away from their great capital, from their heart. Veneziano stopped before their building, smiling happily in contrast to the small smile ghosting across Romano's face. They loved being in their heart, just as much as they loved being in their countrysides with their people. The two got out of the car, Romano immediately bounding up the steps of the building while Veneziano handed to keys to one of the workers to be parked. Veneziano chased after his brother, nearly crashing into him when he failed to realize the Southern Italian was admiring the swirling words etched over the door of the building.

_Dio benedica il Regno d'Italia_

The Kingdom of Italy, a title the two brothers carried pridefully. Romano turned, giving Veneziano a rare smile. Veneziano returned the smile, intertwining his fingers with Romano's as Veneziano held his brother's free hand. It was in brief moments like this, gazing at the love their people held for them, the two brothers grew close. Some would say perhaps a bit too close, but it was to be expected since their two bodies represented one full compete kingdom. It only felt natural for the two brothers to be in sync when they were in their shared heart. Sadly, that was probably the reason people mistook them for twins.

The two continued on their way inside, brightly greeting the people who were familiar with the two brothers. As they approached the stairs, Veneziano pouted.

"One day I'll invent something that carries people up to the top floors!" the Northern Italian huffed. Romano rolled his eyes, muttering a soft "idiot" under his breath as he ruffled his brother's hair and started up the steps. Veneziano followed, wondering yet again how someone as lazy as Romano could tirelessly walk up all those steps. Finally, after climbing six flights of stairs, with Veneziano nearly giving up on the fourth floor, Romano and Veneziano made it to their apartment on the sixth floor.

It was a small place, eqquipped with a kitchen, a living room, a single room that the brothers shared, and a single tiny bathroom. The reason that Romano and Veneziano had specifically picked such a small place, rather than living in one of the more luxurious places their King had offered, was the balcony that overlooked the city of Rome. It was glorious, and the two loved to sit and simply watch the people go by. Romano crossed the living room to get to the bedroom while Veneziano wandered into the kitchen, most likely to make pasta. Romano opened the door, his eyes falling on the large spacious bed that the two slept on. The coat of arms belonging to their kingdom was craftily sown into the tri-colored green, white, red pattern of their bed cover. Romano slowly walked in, his boots springing off the maroon colored plush carpeted simple modest drawers that held both his and Veneziano's clothes creaked as Romano opened them. It was so homely, Romano loved the cramped space as much as he loved his villa. Though the place he loved most was his small cottage that overlooked the Mediterranean sea and held fields and fields of tomatoes. It was a place he and Spain had built when Romano was still a small colony under the Iberian kingdom's control. Romano shook his head and continued unpacking, trying to fight down the blush on his face and the thoughts of a certain green-eyed kingdom.

It was wrong, or so Vatican said when Romano had confessed his feelings to his uncle. The fluttering of his heart was not meant to be for a man. The way his throat clogged up, and his breath hitched when he so much as thought of Spain was ungodly. The dizzying emotions that whirled round and round in his head and in his uncontrollable and easily breakable heart were damning. But still, Romano ached to see his ex-caretaker. Another reason it was considered wrong, the man had raised him, had cared for him when Romano was nothing but a snot-nosed brat and an angsty teenager. Sighing, Romano shut his emotions away and slammed the drawer shut. He always seemed to do that. Hide his feelings, not slam his beautifully crafted drawer, hell no! Romano put the suitcase in the corner and walked back into the living room, the scent of pasta beginning to slowly fill the apartment. The Italian smiled slightly and walked into the white tiled kitchen, finding his brother humming as he stirred the boiling pot of pasta. Veneziano looked up brightly, smiling at Romano when the Southerner sat on the small table stuffed in the middle of the kitchen.

"Ve~ all unpacked Fratello?"

"Si," Romano nodded, watching his brother from his perch. "The pasta almost done?"

"Si!" Veneziano nodded. "I was hoping we could eat in the balcony Fratello. Rome looks so beautiful at sunset~!"

Romano blinked leaning forward and turning his head to gaze out at the balcony that was visible from the kitchen. Indeed, the sun was beginning to lower, slowly turning the baby blue sky into a magnificent shades of orange and red. He hummed, wondering how he had not noticed the sinking of the sun. Still, Veneziano had a point, the vast city was gorgeous when the sun sank and dyed everything red and orange, illuminating the Collisum in the far distance.

"Si, if the pasta is done in time, we can sit outside," Romano agreed, smiling softly when his brother shouted happily. Romano slid off the table and went to fetch wine from the refrigerator, faintly realizing that he seemed to be smiling a lot. Sure it was true that he smiled much more often when in his heart, but he seemed to do so much more than usual this time. Pondering on the reasons why, Romano took the wine from the fridge, got two glasses from the cupboards, and retreated to the balcony. He filled up one cup with wine and set the bottle and extra glass in the far corner of the outcropping. Romano leaned against the railing, hazel eyes peacefully gazing at the red orb the hung in the sky that was a shattered array of blues, reds, yellows, and oranges. He sipped the sweet liquid as a soft breeze made his short chestnut hair sway and the cooling air that wrapped around the Italian softly caressed his content body.

Yes, it was moments like this that Romano loved his land and his people. So beautiful and pure, filled with history in every corner. A story for every crack in the stone, and a memory for every raised building that stood. The people who laughed and danced and sang smiled so brightly to each other as they hurried about their busy ways of life, their sorrows and joys vibrating in Romano's ears. Why people would war over such beauty was understandable, who wouldn't want to own such land. But it was when war destroyed such elegant beauty and faultless innocence that Romano could not understand war. Fighting for beauty only to destory it? It made no sense to the Southern Italian. The sound of the glass door to the balcony sliding open and the mouthwatering smell of his brother's pasta drew him from his musings.

"Ve~? Fratello?"

Romano smiled up at his brother, knowing from the look in his younger brother's honey colored eyes that he felt the same pride and emotions from one single look over the city. Veneziano handed Romano a plate of pasta, the creamy deliciousness covered heavily with tomato sauce and slices of the actual fruit. Romano took the plate, his stomach growling loudly. Veneziano laughed and shut the door once again. The two brothers rested against the glass, sitting on the cement floor with their filled cups of wine an easy arm length's away. They ate their pasta in silence, watching the dying sun sink lower and lower over the city dyed a deep crimson and orange, small flecks of yellow dashed into the mix. All traces of blue soon vanished from the sky. They finished, but continued to sit and watch, sipping wine as the colors darkened and gave way to the blue-black of the night sky and the moon rose gracefully into the sky, replacing the sun with softer rays of ivory. The stars helped the moon illuminate the sky, twinkling cheerily with their pale Mistress. Veneziano let out a content sigh, leaning against his brother. Romano happily and silently accepted the warmth from his sibling, wrapping his free arm around his brother's shoulders.

"Fratello?" Veneziano asked softly. Romano hummed, indicating that he was listening. Veneziano looked up at his brother, his dark olive skin seemed lighter in the moonlight. "Did you hear the rumors?"

"That's all they are Feliciano," Romano assured, using his brother's human name. It was such a beautiful night, why stain it with formalities? "They're just rumors."

"Do you truly believe that Lovino?" Veneziano asked, happy that his brother had silently given him permission to use his human name by simply using his own name. Still, he was curious to hear his brother's response. "Germany acts as if the rumors were true."

"Well it's his problem," Romano snapped. "If he wants to go to war again, let him. We let our people go to war and now we have to sit in our pain and watch our people suffer."

Veneziano was silent, watching his brother lose himself in memories. It was true, that Veneziano had let his older brother do the actual fighting, but his brother was so strong and determined sometimes. He loved that about his brother, loved the way Romano constantly reminded him of a grumpy version of their beloved Nonno in both looks and in his deep love for his land.

"What will we do if war does break out and we can't escape it?" Veneziano asked. Romano inhaled deeply.

"Pray that we don't get swept into war, our people would only suffer so much more. Another war will only wrack our bodies with unnecessary pain."

Veneziano smiled sadly. His brother was so smart when he wanted to be, so extraordinary. "Ve~ Fratello? Will you sing to me?"

Romano sighed and looked down at his brother. The pleading look that Veneziano gave him was hard to deny. "Chigi, fine."

Veneziano cheered and slipped out of Romano's hold and stood up. Romano sat up, getting off the glass door as Veneziano opened it and raced into the living room to retrieve Romano's guitar. When Veneizano returned with the instrument, he shut the glass door and Romano leaned back against it again. Veneziano sat down with him, handing his brother the guitar. Romano softly strummed the guitar, and Veneziano leaned against his brother again, recognizing the melody that was strummed.

"Lasciate che la pace regni," Romano murmured. Veneizano hummed his agreement and sat in serenity as his brother sang to the night with his clear beautiful voice.

"_E buonanotte, buonanotte a chi non riesce a prender sonno _((And goodnight, goodnight to those who can not get to sleep))  
_ E buonanotte, buonanotte a chi insegue un'altro sogno _((And goodnight, goodnight to those chasing another dream))  
_ E buonanotte al sole che spegne la luce e va a dormire senza me _((And goodnight to the sun that turns off the light and goes to sleep without me))  
_ E buonanotte buonanotte amore buonanotte a te... _((And goodnight goodnight goodnight, I love you))"

Veneziano smiled. Life was meant to be this way. Soft and peaceful while being lulled to sleep by his beloved brother.

No, Veneziano could not tell his brother how frighteningly real the rumors were. Romano was being naive. So he, Veneziano, would step up and carry the burden his brother usually carried. Yes, surely this would make Romano and their people proud. He would ally himself with Germany and benefit from the wealth the upcoming war would bring.

'I'm doing this for us Fratello...'

"_E buonanotte, buonanotte a chi ha chiuso gia la porta _((And goodnight, goodnight to those who have already closed the door))  
_ E buonanotte, buonanotte a chi e' fuori un altra volta _((And goodnight, goodnight, and to those out one more time))  
_ E buonanotte al mare che al buio ha paura e le lampare accende gia_ ((And goodnight to the sea in the dark that is afraid, and the lamp is already lit))  
_ E buonanotte, buonanotte amore e a chi ti viziera _((And goodnight, goodnight I love and am the one who will pamper you))"

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**Translations:**

**Dio benedica il Regno d'Italia = God bless the Kingdom of Italy**

**Lasciate che la pace regni = Let peace reign**

**Please review~!**


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